


Viva la Launderette

by Cordelia_Sun



Category: Farscape
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Season/Series 04, Starburst Challenge, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8619322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia_Sun/pseuds/Cordelia_Sun
Summary: After their visit to Earth Chiana misses their Human servants while John upgrades Moya's facilities.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Terrafirmascapers.com starburst challenge #95: Missing moments and is a little change to vent about one of my little personal bugbears in the Farscape universe.

Chiana entered Moya's amnexsus chamber with a happy hum and an armful of laundry. She'd let things build up over the last couple of weekens and was now down to her last set of underwear and an outfit she'd picked up on Earth; a black skirt that flipped round her knees as she walked and a stretchy grey top. It was a fun outfit, but a skirt wasn't the most practical clothing for day to day life on Moya; it was pretty hard to strap on a holster. She missed her usual apparel.  
  
She hated doing laundry and while she’d been on Earth she’d got used to having it all taken care of by the army of servants Crichton's people had provided for them. Shame they couldn't have brought some along when they left. When it came to servants Chiana thoroughly agreed with Rygel...the more the better. And Crichton’s species pretty damn good at it.   
  
Speaking of Crichton there he was kneeling down, not in the pool they used for washing, but on the far side of the room next to a couple of big white metal boxes. She wasn't surprised to find him here, these days he was always hiding out in odd places on the ship, tinkering with this thing or that. Doing his best to avoid everyone.  
  
“Hey old man,” she called out as she dumped her laundry on the floor, “what you doin'?”  
  
He grinned up at her and thumped the side of the white boxes, “Plumbing!”  
  
“What?” Chiana stepped over to him and looked at the white box. It was about the size of one of the big storage containers they used for fetching supplies on the transport pod, but it had a hatch opening on the top and a panel with all sorts of strange symbols on it. She gave it an experimental kick, “what's is it?”  
  
“This, Pip, is a washer. For clothes.” he stood up and opened the hatch, “picked it up on Earth. You know it’s been nearly four cycles I been out here and I, for one, am sick of hand washing my smalls.”  
  
“So it's a cleanser?”  
  
“Yeah, for clothes. It's always amazed me how out here you can travel faster than light, you have weapons that can destroy a planet and we're doing laundry by hand. Doesn't that seem crazy to you?”  
  
“Well, yeah. I guess Moya never needed a laundry. The Peackeeper's would have sent it all off ship.”  
  
“Well, I need one. So I got this when we were Earth. I figured I would plumb it into Moya's amnexus system...a hybrid solution.”  
  
Chiana’s lip curled in skeptisism; they hadn’t had a lot of luck with hybrids.   
  
“Well, hope it works.” She said, “I got a mountain to do here.”  
  
“I’m just about ready to test it out.” he said, adjusting a pipe that fed into that back of the machine, “Why don't we give it a go with your stuff?”  
  
“Ok, sure.” Chiana skipped over to her pile and came back with her arms full, “what do we do?”  
  
“Throw ‘em in the hole,” Crichton pointed to the cylinder inside the hatch and Chiana stuffed her clothes inside. He swung the hatch down and it closed with a click.  
  
“Usually you need detergent, but the cleansing agents in Moya's amnexus fluids should be able to do the job.” He inspected the panel of symbols, “now, we just have to figure out what cycle to use.”  
  
“Is this another Earth language?” said Chiana, peering at the symbols; she was pretty good at reading Crichton’s language, but none of symbols made any sense, “It doesn't look like English.”  
  
“No, it's just for washers," he said.  
  
“You have language just for washers? That's frelled!” Chaina laughed.  
  
“I guess so.” He smiled back at her.  
  
“What does it say?”  
  
“I have… no idea! I’m pretty sure no-one does.” He pressed a couple of a buttons that beeped at his touch and after a few moments the machine began to make strange shunting, humming sounds.  
  
“What's going on, is it broken?” asked Chiana, “if you ruin my stuff you have to replace it.”  
  
“Naw, don't worry, it's supposed to sound like that.” said Crichton.  
  
“What do we do now?”  
  
“We just wait. A arn or so and then it should be finished then we load it into the dryer.” He pointed to the other box.   
  
“Drad,” Chiana grinned, “it's funny, I don't know why we didn't just pick up a standard cleanser on a commerce planet. It's not like we're short on currency the last couple of cycles and they're not that expensive.”  
  
Crichton gave her a long hard stare, “You tell me we could have just picked something like this at any commerce planet?”  
  
“Sure, you don't think people normally wash their clothes in an amnexus pool do you?” Chiana grinned at him and began to skip away, “Let me know when you're done wont you?”  
  
“Four cycles!” John ranted as she left, “four cycles bashing my stuff on a rock on the side of a goddamn river and now she tells me!”  
  
She could still hear the grumbling halfway down the corridor.  
  
“Human servants,” she thought, “nothing better in the universe.”  
  
  
FIN


End file.
